


Take My Hand, I'll Teach You To Dance

by daimonas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Brief mention of slavery, Cute, Dancing, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romantic Fluff, but it's nothing awful he just mentions how he learned to dance, fenris talks a little about his past, honestly, really this whole fic is just fenris and hawke dancing and it's beautiful, slight sexual tension, there is so much fluff in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daimonas/pseuds/daimonas
Summary: "The Basics of Dancing?"Fenris says aloud, his tone more than a little curious.Hawke groans, falling forward and laying his head down on the table. Fenris can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as he opens the book, scanning through the pictures. Reading still comes slow to him, but he can tell by what he sees that this book's advice is little more than atrocious. He closes it, walking it back to the shelf and returning it from where he can tell Hawke took it from, and walks back over to Hawke. Without waiting for his lover to look up, he holds out his hand."Come here," he says, simply.Hawke groans again but sits up, turning his head in Fenris's direction. When he notices the offered hand, he looks at Fenris with a raised brow."Do you trust me?" Fenris asks.





	Take My Hand, I'll Teach You To Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my holiday commissions series, written for a beautiful person on tumblr. It's basically a complete re-write of one of my older fics, but we both really like the idea of Fenris teaching Hawke to dance. I wrote this one a bit more in-character for them both. I hope you all enjoy it!

The night air is bitterly cold as Fenris makes his way through the Chantry courtyard. Bodies bustle through the yard, making the location seem far more busy than usual. No one stops to talk, though - the cold is too much for most, considering this is the first time Kirkwall has seen snow in fifteen years. A gust of wind has Fenris ducking into his scarf and pulling his hat further over his ears.

It doesn't take much longer to get to Hawke's estate. He doesn't bother knocking (because, apparently, they have reached that point in their relationship) before heading inside. As usual, Bodahn greets Fenris with a smile and says, "Good evening, Serah Fenris! May I take your coat?"

Fenris nods and removes his coat and gloves, sticking the gloves in the pocket of the coat before handing it over. Bodahn nods and accepts the coat, then points to the left of the parlor. "Serah Hawke is in the library. Quite broody today, if you ask me. I'd be careful with him."

Fenris chuckles. "Seems to be how he is lately. I'm sure I can handle him."

"As you wish," Bodahn says, and leaves Fenris to find his way.

When Fenris enters the library, he finds Hawke huddled over his table, a book lying flat in front of him, his eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. The only sound to disrupt the quiet is the fire cracking softly on the other side of the room and Bodahn's shuffling around in the main hall. Hawke doesn't even seem to notice Fenris has entered, so the elf takes the opportunity to admire his lover. His dark hair is long enough now that the tips of it brushes against the tops of his eyes. His dark beard is full, and the dark hair together emphasizes the bright red scar across his nose. His dark purple shirt is tight - tight enough that when Hawke sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, rubbing his forehead in frustration, Fenris can see the muscles moves underneath.

Hawke lets out a sigh, and Fenris decides he has simply admired for long enough.

"Studying for something?"

Hawke's eyes snap open, immediately finding Fenris in the otherwise empty doorway. His cheeks start to darken and he glances down at his book, quickly leaning over and slapping the book closed. He shakes his head, looking back at Fenris with the most nonchalant face he can muster. "No, no, just - doing some reading."

Fenris quirks an eyebrow and begins to enter the room. As he does, Hawke glances down at the book and leans forward as discreetly as possible, setting his elbow atop the title - attempting to hide it from Fenris, no doubt. "Hmmm," Fenris says, the word itself rumbling in his chest. He reaches Hawke's side and puts a hand on his shoulder, offering a light squeeze before leaning his head down next to Hawke's. He presses his cheek against his lover's as he reaches for the book. "Something naughty, then?"

"What? No! Not at - Fenris, no. Fenris -"

Through his protest, Hawke makes no attempt to stop Fenris from taking the book from under his elbow. Instead, he gives in, heaving a large sigh as he sits back into his chair. He puts his hands over his face, running them dejectedly down his cheeks, as Fenris reads the title of the book.

" _The Basics of Dancing_?" Fenris says aloud, his tone more than a little curious.

Hawke groans, falling forward and laying his head down on the table. Fenris can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as he opens the book, scanning through the pictures. Reading still comes slow to him, but he can tell by what he sees that this book's advice is little more than atrocious. He closes it, walking it back to the shelf and returning it from where he can tell Hawke took it from, and walks back over to Hawke. Without waiting for his lover to look up, he holds out his hand.

"Come here," he says, simply.

Hawke groans again but sits up, turning his head in Fenris's direction. When he notices the offered hand, he looks at Fenris with a raised brow.

"Do you trust me?" Fenris asks.

Hawke moves his eyes back to Fenris's outstretched hand and, seemingly deciding he trusts Fenris enough to go along with whatever he's planning, takes his offered palm. Fenris hoists him up and guides him to the open floor of the library. When he finds its center, he stops walking and turns to Hawke. Hawke, eyebrow still raised, finally asks, "So - what is it we're doing?"

Fenris chuckles and moves forward. He grabs one of Hawke's hands and places it on his own waist, then steps  forward, sliding his hand up Hawke's chest until he reaches his shoulder. With his free hand, he grabs Hawke's and, once their fingers are intertwined, he moves his green eyes to meet golden. "You need to learn to dance, do you not?"

Hawke's cheeks immediately darken and he clears his throat, glancing away from the elf. He closes his eyes, seemingly preparing for the inevitable fate of whatever hellscape he believes Fenris is about to put him through, and says, "I do."

"Good. Then, I shall teach you."

Hawke opens his eyes and turns them back to Fenris's. He asks, "Where did you learn to dance?"

Fenris rolls his eyes. "I was a slave to the highest nobility in Tevinter, Hawke. I needed to learn to do so, per command. I needed to learn to mingle, because on the dance floor, there are so many secrets to be heard. Not a soul thinks anyone is listening when the music is going and bodies are turning. Particularly not when that person is a slave."

"Then why -"

"Would I like to dance? Because, though my reasons for learning were not my own, it is something I enjoy to do." Hawke raises an eyebrow to this statement and Fenris chuckles. "Is it really so surprising?

Hawke shrugs, glancing away again before mumbling, "If we're actually doing this, you're not allowed to laugh."

Fenris leans in, standing on his toes to kiss the corner of the mage's mouth. This brings a nervous smile to Hawke's lips and he visibly relaxes. Fenris smiles. "I wouldn't dream of it, Hawke."

Hawke nods and rolls his shoulders, trying to release the rest of the tension he's built in his system. Fenris offers his shoulder another light squeeze and asks, "How much do you know of dancing?"

Hawke takes a moment to think. Fenris hears the fire crackle behind them and he silently thanks Bodahn for keeping it stocked. If it were up to Hawke, the fire would be started in the morning and left to fester and die the rest of the day. He was a significantly warmer being than Fenris himself.

Hawke answers, "If I'm being honest, nothing."

Fenris nods, trying to gather his thoughts and think of a way to start the lesson. He decides to start with how they're standing. "The way we're positioned currently puts you in the lead. I know to do both, since I danced with both men and women in Tevinter. Considering Kirkwall is more... conservative, in their views, I will assume that you will always be put in the position to lead. Now, the most common dance - particularly here in Kirkwall - is a basic waltz. You'll start with your left foot first -"

Fenris walks him through the steps. They work with one another for hours - long after the sun sets and the people return home for the night. The process is indeed not a smooth one. Hawke steps on Fenris's foot more than once. At one point, he does it in the middle of a turn, causing him to fall forward and take the elf with him. They laugh it off, but Hawke's demeanor changes after - he becomes increasingly irritated and begins to gets more and more quiet - until, after a few more steps, he is entirely silent.

"Hawke," Fenris says, stopping the pair from moving. "You don't have to worry with me. If we do this while you're angry, you won't learn a thing."

Hawke sighs and closes his eyes, leaning forward to touch his forehead to Fenris's. "I know. I'm sorry, this is just - frustrating. I'm not a very graceful person."

Fenris snorts, causing Hawke to open his eyes and look at his lover through scrunched brows. Fenris waves him off, saying, "I apologize. Only - you are one of the most graceful people I know, Hawke. Have you ever seen yourself during battle?"

"Well, no, but that's different. With a battle, your life is at stake. If you're not careful, not overly observant, you're as good as dead."

Fenris rolls his eyes, "Yes, but the grace must come from _somewhere_ , correct? It's not that you don't have a graceful bone in your body - you're just over-thinking this. When we move, focus on me. My body. The way I'm moving and the direction I'm heading. You're the leader here, but you also must read your partner's body language. Does that make sense?"

Hawke grins, a cocky gesture over a smug face, and says, "You had me at focus on your body."

Fenris rolls his eyes, but allows himself to smile. "Now, pay attention."

"Yes, sir," Hawke says, his tone low.

Fenris attempts to not think of the way his body reacts to that statement.

They continue their lesson well until midnight. When they've attempted to do one full attempt at the waltz with minimal scuffling, Fenris finally smiles and takes a step back. He says, "Well, I do believe you have mastered the waltz. How does it feel, Hawke?"

"Bloody miserable," Hawke says with a groan, lifting one of his hands to the back of his neck and rubbing at a sore spot. He drops his hand before continuing. "But, better. I'm not as nervous for tomorrow now."

"You think there's going to be dancing at the gathering?"

"It's the royalty of the city all gathered into one place. If there's not dancing, I'm sure someone will be dead by the end of the night."

"With the way things have been, there will be someone dead at the end of the night, anyway."

Hawke laughs at that, and the mere sound of his deep laugh sends a thrill through Fenris. He finds himself smiling, offering a light chuckle at his own statement. When Hawke finishes laughing, he continues wearing a smile and reaches out to grab Fenris's hand. Fenris allows it, and allows himself to be pulled to the bear of the man in front of him. Hawke wraps his burly arms around Fenris's frame, crushing him tightly to his chest. Fenris savors the feeling of being wrapped in Hawke's arms and nuzzles his face into Hawke's shirt. He feels a kiss on the top of his head through his hat and smiles, basking in the glow of the mage's love.

He lets himself be held for a while, but when the fire begins to dim and the room begins to grow cold, he shudders and pulls away. He says, "I should be heading home."

"At this hour?" Hawke protests, letting his eyes drift to the window. Fenris follows his gaze and notices it's still snowing - coating the city in a solid blanket of white evil. He scrunches his nose at the thought of going back out, but knows that he should be heading home. He turns back to Hawke and is about to speak when Hawke says, "You should stay."

"Hawke -"

"Please?" Hawke says, his tone half-pleading. He steps forward, grabbing the end of the scarf still wrapped around Fenris's neck and whispers. "Just for tonight. You can return home in the morning, in the daylight."

Fenris contemplates the offer. He's stayed once or twice before, but never because he intended to. It was always because he was watching over Hawke - either while he was grieving, or while he was hurt. He had never stayed when the mage was well, and in good enough spirits to try for _more._ They hadn't tried since that night and, honestly, Fenris still wasn't sure if he was ready to try again.

As if reading his mind, Hawke says, "We don't have to do anything, and I promise I won't even attempt anything. I just want to make sure you're safe. It's far too late to travel, and with the snow falling as it is, the roads will be perilous. I'll even sleep in my mother's old room, if you'd like. You can have my bed."

Fenris mulls over the decision in his mind once more, moving his eyes to the window again to watch the falling snow. He needed to be home, but he really, _really_ hated the snow.

Finally, he turns back to Hawke, a smile on his face. He says, "I'll stay, but on one condition."

Hawke attempts to hide his smile but fails, the entirety of it bursting across his face in the span of a second. "Oh? And what's that?"

"You sleep in the same bed with me."

Fenris can almost see the internal fanfare that flashes through Hawke's mind. His smile widens and he takes a deep breath, obviously keeping himself from exclaiming something embarrassing in the moment. Fenris smiles at the mage's enthusiasm. The elf nods behind him and says, "Are you ready, then? I could really use some sleep."

Hawke walks forward, walking quicker than absolutely necessary in his excited state. He grabs Fenris's hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it. Fenris feels his tattoos flicker, no doubt reacting to the lyrium that courses through the mage, and shivers at the touch. Hawke notices the movement, but decidedly ignores it as he turns and begins to pull Fenris towards the open door of the library.

"Serah Fenris!" Bodahn says as soon as they exit the room. "Shall I get your coat?"

Hawke stops walking and turns to look at Fenris, who turns his gaze to his. He feels another smile spread across his face and, without looking back at Bodahn, he says, "No, Bodahn. I'll be staying tonight."

"Oh! Delightful! That's wonderful news! Let me know if you need anything, Serah Fenris. And do excuse Sandal if he wakes you in the morning. He's been doing strange experiments as of late. Yes, strange indeed."

Fenris lets out a breathy laugh and says, "I'm sure he won't wake me. Thank you for the warning. Goodnight, Bodahn."

"Goodnight, Serahs!"

"Goodnight," Hawke says, and flashes one last grin to Fenris before turning to lead him the rest of the way to his room.

When they get inside, Hawke closes the door. Immediately, Fenris is more than aware of the mage's presence. Suddenly, behind a closed door, he _feels_ Hawke's presence, like a spark of electricity coursing through his veins.

Maybe -

Maybe, after everything, he's ready to try again after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks so much for reading to the end!


End file.
